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Authors: Michael Ridpath

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BOOK: Meltwater
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‘Jesus,’ said Árni. Magnus saw Erika close her eyes. Árni handed the gadget to Magnus.

Magnus tapped and scrolled, skimming the words on the tiny screen. ‘Tell me about Freeflow, Erika.’

Erika didn’t reply.

Magnus tapped on a link to Freeflow’s website. ‘That’s weird. Doesn’t seem to be the kind of site that would be interested in volcanoes. What’s this? African arms deals? Bribing Italian judges? Ah, Icelandic banks. But no volcanoes.’

‘You speak very good English.’

‘Freeflow?’

‘Are you sure you are not an American?’

‘I was born here,’ said Magnus. ‘But I have lived most of my life in Boston.’

‘And you?’ Erika asked Árni.

‘I went to college in the States,’ said Árni. ‘Indiana.’ Although Árni’s English was good, his Icelandic accent was obvious, even in those few words.

‘OK,’ said Erika. ‘But what about you, Sergeant Jonson? What are you doing here?’

‘I’m attached to the office of the National Police Commissioner,’ said Magnus.

‘I don’t believe you.’

Magnus frowned. The Icelanders were much less prone to waving their badges around than American cops, but that was clearly what was required. He pulled out his ID and slid it across the table to Erika. He had been made to do a six-month programme at the National Police College, and since graduating from there he had full status as a member of the Icelandic police.

Erika picked it up, glanced at it and tossed it back on to the desk.

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘What do you mean, you don’t believe it?’

‘I’m involved in a murder on a mountain in the middle of Iceland. I get taken to some hick small town and who shows up to interview me? An American. Just where the hell did they find you?’

Magnus fought to control his temper. ‘You’ve seen my ID, now answer my questions.’

‘You work for the CIA, don’t you?’

‘The CIA? You’re nuts!’

‘What happens next, you fly me out to Morocco or somewhere and interrogate me?’

‘Erika, I work for the Icelandic police. I am an Icelandic policeman. Now answer my questions.’

‘Or what? You’ll waterboard me? I want a real Icelandic policeman in here now. Someone with a uniform. In fact I’d like to speak to the chief superintendent. He must be in the building somewhere.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m not being ridiculous. My lawyer will be here soon.’

‘Your lawyer?’

‘Yes. I have an Icelandic lawyer in Reykjavík. I called from the station. He’ll be here in a few minutes.’

‘Stay here!’ snapped Magnus. He left Árni with Erika and went to look for the chief superintendent. He was interviewing a small dark-haired woman with Vigdís.

‘Got a minute?’

Kristján and Vigdís joined Magnus in the corridor. Magnus quickly explained about Erika, Freeflow, Erika’s suspicions that he was in the CIA and the lawyer.

‘Wait a moment,’ said Vigdís. ‘I remember seeing her on
Silfur Egils
last year
.
She was good.’

‘Did you let them make calls?’ Magnus asked Kristján.

‘Of course I did,’ said Kristján. ‘She’s a victim, not a suspect.’

‘Yeah, of course, sorry. What does the woman say? Is she the priest?’

‘Yes,’ said Vigdís. ‘Her name is Ásta. She hasn’t mentioned Freeflow. She says the foreigners were all there to report on the volcano.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ said Magnus. ‘We need to move fast, before the lawyer gets here. Kristján, is there a way of keeping the witnesses separate? I don’t want them talking to each other. Perhaps we can get one of the others to give us something.’

‘I can organize that.’

‘What is it?’ Magnus noticed the look of doubt in the chief superintendent’s eyes.

‘You don’t work for the CIA, do you?’

‘What kind of question is that?’ Magnus asked.

‘A good one,’ interrupted Vigdís. ‘Kristján, I’m sure you must have heard of Magnús. He caused a bit of a stir in Reykjavík last year. I’ve worked closely with him since he arrived last April, and I can assure you that he would make a really bad spy. But perhaps you should call the Police Commissioner as soon as he gets in in the morning?’

Kristján hesitated, and then smiled. ‘I’ll do that. In the meantime, you are in charge of the investigation and I will help you as best I can. I’ll split the witnesses up now and then have a word with Erika myself.’

‘Thanks,’ said Magnus. ‘And I’m sorry. Vigdís is right, you needed to be sure. OK, Vigdís, let’s talk to this priest. You never know, she might tell us the truth.’

Magnus sat opposite the young woman, examining her. She looked more like a student than a minister, with her jeans and her young fresh face. An honest face – that was good. The clerical collar merely made her look more innocent.

‘So, Ásta, how long have you been a priest?’ Magnus asked.

‘Just over a year.’

‘And do you have a parish?’

‘Not at the moment, no. I did six months covering for a pastor on maternity leave in Mjódd last year, but since November, nothing.’ The woman smiled thinly. ‘It’s quite difficult to get a job these days, even for ordained priests.’

Her voice was clear and authoritative.

‘So what is your connection with Freeflow?’

Ásta paused. Her large blue eyes held Magnus’s. ‘It has nothing to do with the Church. I am just a volunteer.’

‘I see. And when did you first meet Erika Zinn?’

‘This afternoon. When I picked her up from the airport.’

‘And took her . . . where?’

‘To a house in Thórsgata that Freeflow are renting,’ Ásta replied carefully.

‘Tell me about Freeflow,’ Magnus said.

‘I don’t really know that much about them. I’ve never worked for them before. I believe they receive leaked information and make it available to the world. Information about corruption, human rights abuses, that kind of thing.’

‘And Erika Zinn is their leader?’

‘Effectively. I’m not sure that she calls herself that, but the others all look up to her.’

‘By the others, do you mean the people who went up the volcano with you? Are they all working for Freeflow?’

Ásta hesitated, and then nodded.

Magnus turned to Vigdís. ‘Did she tell you any of this about Freeflow?’

‘No,’ said Vigdís, staring at the priest. ‘No, she didn’t.’

‘Why not?’ Magnus asked Ásta.

‘She didn’t ask.’

Magnus slammed his hand on the table. Ásta jumped. ‘Oh, come on. You’re not some schoolgirl caught smoking weed in the girls’ bathroom; this is a murder inquiry. Why did you lie?’

‘I didn’t actually lie.’

‘That’s semantics. You knew it was important and you didn’t tell us. Why not?’

Ásta said nothing.

‘What is Freeflow working on at the moment? Why did they come to Iceland?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ásta said. ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to tell the truth? You know, as a priest?’

Ásta nodded. ‘But I am also supposed to respect confidences.’

Magnus fought hard to contain his frustration. ‘Even when it protects a murderer? Someone killed Niccolò Andreose this evening. We don’t know why, but one line of inquiry has to be that it had something to do with whatever Freeflow is working on at the moment. We can find out. We’ll search this house on Thórsgata.’

‘Well, that’s what you will have to do,’ said Ásta calmly.

Magnus had hoped that Ásta would prove to be a soft touch. But he could tell she was going to be stubborn when confronted directly. Increasing the pressure would just make her dig her heels in more deeply; a new tack was required. He glanced at Vigdís.

‘Are you willing to help us to find the killer?’ she asked.

Ásta nodded.

‘OK. Then let’s go through what you did today from when you picked up Erika from the airport, but this time don’t leave anything out.’

Ásta’s description of events was detailed and thorough, with the exception of what it was that Freeflow was actually planning to do in the house in Thórsgata; she deftly dodged Vigdís’s indirect questions around the subject.

‘Tell me some more about the snowmobilers,’ Magnus asked.

‘There were two of them. I saw their snowmobiles at the bottom about twenty metres from where we parked, and when we arrived they were up at the volcano. I think I saw them up at the rim when we got up there. Then they were gone.’

‘Did you see where they went? Did they follow Nico and Erika?’

‘No, I didn’t see. And they were on the other side of us – I mean Nico and Erika went off to the left and they were on the right.’

‘What about Franz? You say you lost track of him?’

‘Yes – I don’t remember seeing him at all when we went up the volcano. Dúddi was a little worried about him, until we got back to the car and found him there waiting for us.’

‘You didn’t see him talk to the snowmobilers?’

‘No. But he could have done. I mean the visibility was only clear for part of the time we were up there, and we were concentrating on the volcano.’

‘Do you know anything about Franz?’

‘No – I had never met him before today. He speaks good English, but he’s not a native speaker. Perhaps German?’

Magnus smiled. ‘We’ll speak to him next. And the two people on the snowmobiles? Can you describe them?’

Ásta thought hard. ‘I got a look at them when we were waiting in the car for the others and they were mounting their snowmobiles. They were wearing hats and ski jackets, so it was hard to see. Both men, for sure, one of them big with a bit of a belly. But I wouldn’t recognize them again.’

‘What about their ski jackets?’ asked Magnus. ‘What colour were they?’

Ásta closed her eyes. ‘One of them I remember. Bright red. It was the bigger man. The other man I don’t remember.’

Magnus smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s very helpful. Now tell me what happened after Dúddi told you about Nico.’

Ásta was just about to answer when she was interrupted by a commotion outside in the corridor. Magnus opened the door to take a look. A tall silver-haired man with a pointed chin was in a heated discussion with Kristján. He was wearing jeans and a smart black jacket and sported a nice tan, unusual in Icelanders in April.

‘I want to see my client,’ the man was saying.

‘I’m sorry, we are interviewing her at the moment.’

‘Is she a suspect?’ the man asked.

The door opened behind Kristján and Erika appeared. ‘Viktor!’ she said in English. ‘Boy, am I glad to see you.’

‘What’s going on here?’ Viktor asked.

‘Nico has been killed, up on the volcano. I was with him – it was horrible. I told the police what happened, and then they suddenly started asking me a lot of questions about Freeflow. Especially that one.’ She nodded towards Magnus. ‘He’s American. CIA would be my guess.’

The lawyer frowned. He turned to the chief superintendent. ‘What is an American doing here?’ he asked in Icelandic.

‘Sergeant Magnús is attached to the National Police Commissioner’s Office,’ Kristján said. ‘Show Viktor your ID, Magnús.’

Magnus handed his identity card to the lawyer, who examined it carefully.

‘The guy may have Icelandic ID,’ said Erika, who was watching closely. ‘But he’s American. His accent is perfect. And I want to know what he is doing here.’

‘I’m trying to catch the man who killed your friend,’ said Magnus. ‘And I would appreciate some more cooperation from all of you. In particular we need to know what Freeflow is working on.’

‘So you can tell the US government?’ said Erika.

‘No, so we can ascertain who had a motive to kill Mr Andreose.’

Viktor looked at Erika and then at the chief superintendent. ‘My clients are leaving now.’

‘I can’t allow that,’ said Kristján. ‘We haven’t finished questioning them.’

‘I ask you again, are they suspects?’

‘No, but they are witnesses. Witnesses in a murder investigation.’

Viktor took a step towards him. He was taller than the chief superintendent and pointed his chin down towards the police officer.

‘In addition to being a lawyer, you know that I am a Member of Parliament and one of the sponsors of the Icelandic Modern Media Initiative, which has been endorsed by the government. The initiative was developed in conjunction with Freeflow. Our country should be a haven for organizations like them. Freeflow’s activities are of no interest to the police, and certainly the Icelandic authorities should not be cooperating with foreign governments to force Freeflow to reveal what they are working on.’

‘I do not work for a foreign government!’ Magnus growled. ‘I don’t care what Freeflow is working on, beyond the obvious point that whatever it is, it’s probably pissing off someone, and that someone might be trying to stop them. I’m just trying to solve a crime. And I don’t appreciate you obstructing the police in doing that.’

BOOK: Meltwater
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